


Safe house

by Blackghost7



Category: NCIS
Genre: Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:34:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3206075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackghost7/pseuds/Blackghost7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the fourth day, they had their first shouting match. On the eighth, they were ready to kill each other. And on the eleventh, they found other ways to dispel their boredom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe house

   
He walked through the door, surveyed his surroundings and dropped his duffel bag with a deep sigh. Oh joy, this was going to be fun. Hearing Gibbs coming up behind him, Tony stepped away from the door to make room for his boss. Not that there was much room to be made, the cabin was tiny. Gibbs walked in and stood beside him, his own duffel dropping to the floor as well.  
   
“Smaller than I remembered.”  
   
“Couldn’t Vance have put us in another safe house, Boss? I mean, I’m sure the others are holed up in much better places than this!”  
   
“Shut it, DiNozzo. It’s just for a couple of days.”  
   
“Yeah but, Boss, there is hardly any room to move in here! It’s tiny! It’s miniscule!”  
   
“It’s also far away from everything.”  
   
“But I’m getting claustrophobic just looking around in here!”  
   
“Relax, Tony. Go put our stuff away. I’ll bring in the supplies.”  
   
And so, while Gibbs was bringing in the boxes with food supplies and started putting them away in the tiny little fridge and the tiny little cupboards in the tiny little kitchen, Tony emptied the contents of both their duffels into the tiny little closet and the tiny little chest of drawers, making sure that Gibbs’ clothes were neatly lined up with military precision the way Tony knew the man kept his clothes at home – Tony was nothing if not curious and loved to snoop, so at the first opportunity he’d had, years ago, he had poked through Gibbs’ closets and drawers at his house – but simply dumped his own unceremoniously into a pile, not caring whether the t-shirts and shorts got wrinkled. That job done, he looked around again. He admitted to himself that while the cabin was small, it was not as bad as he made it out to be. It was mostly a single space, which held the kitchenette, small but functional, a couch and a lounge chair with a little coffee table, a small dining table with two chairs, and a queen sized bed. And that was the first time that little piece of information registered. One bed. Great. They’d have to share. In one corner was a small bathroom with shower, sink and toilet, and that was all of it.  
   
Cursing Vance again, Tony thought back to what they were doing here. Fornell had come by the office yesterday morning with news that he’d heard through the grapevine that there was a threat against Gibbs’ team. That was nothing new, but this was a very specific threat, and directed at all the members of the MCRT and their closest relatives, but focused mainly against Gibbs and DiNozzo. They had been the ones to catch and interrogate the mob boss and were scheduled to testify at his trial, and the guy’s “family” were determined to take them out. When Fornell first arrived with the news, they had laughed about it, but when that very same evening Abby nearly got blown up, escaping unharmed only through pure luck, the alert was taken seriously, and Vance had immediately organized for the team to get protection. Safe houses were arranged, and the team had been split up and sent to their assigned locations. Abby, shaken but alright, had company from Sister Rosita, McGee was together with his mother and sister. Ducky, Palmer and Breena also shared a location, and Bishop and her husband were together. And then there was Gibbs and Tony. Here. In this tiny – okay, small – cabin in the middle of nowhere.  
   
Sighing again, Tony dropped onto the couch, Gibbs joining him when he was done putting away their supplies, handing Tony a beer. They sipped in silence for a while.  
   
“You think the other arrived safely, Boss?”  
   
“Would have heard from Vance if something had happened.”  
   
Gibbs nodded to the burn phone they had been given for emergencies only, which had reception out here just barely. They sipped in silence again.  
   
“How long do you think it will take?”  
   
“Don’t know, DiNozzo. Try not to think about it.”  
   
And that was the start of a long afternoon for both men slumped on the couch, sipping a beer in mostly silence, and worrying about their friends.  
   
   
When the sun set and it started getting dark outside, Tony got up and turned on a few lamps, then walked the few steps to the kitchen counter and started checking their supplies and the available kitchen gear. Finding everything he needed for a decent pasta dish, he got busy. Gibbs went outside to get some logs from the stack against one side of the cabin, and started a fire in the hearth, the air having turned chilly when the sun was gone. Then Gibbs grabbed a book and settled on the lounger, watching Tony work his magic in the kitchen, appreciating that the younger man had gladly taken that task on. When dinner was ready, Gibbs was surprised to find it tasted delicious, and complimented Tony, which brought a sparkle to Tony’s eyes for the first time since they had arrived here. After dinner, Gibbs returned to his book and Tony got out his portable DVD-player, putting in his earbuds so the sound wouldn’t disturb Gibbs. A few hours later, Gibbs got up to bank the fire, shower and turn in. Tony watched the remainder of his movie before also showering, and crawled under the blankets next to Gibbs. This wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed, stuck in a cheap motel out in the boondocks they'd been forced to share before, and Tony wasn’t worried about it. He groaned when he felt the lumps in the thin mattress and the scratchiness of the sheets and blankets, mourning being deprived of his own pillow top mattress and high thread count sheets, which felt so much better, and knew that he would have an aching back by the time they got the word the threat was over and they could come home. Despite everything, they fell asleep quickly.  
   
   
Tony woke up to the smell of coffee, sunlight shining into his still closed eyes, and the chirping of birds. Stretching his limbs, he groaned at the twinge in his back. Damn. He’d known that bed would have him in agony. Carefully getting up and stretching some more, he finally opened his eyes to catch the amused twinkle in Gibbs’ eyes as he watched Tony rub his back in self-pity.  
   
“Don’t laugh, Boss. That bed is going to be the death of me.”  
   
Walking over to the kitchen he poured himself a cup of coffee, pleased to find Gibbs had already set out sugar and that there was cream in the fridge. Tony finished his first cup in silence, guessing Gibbs was already on his third, judging from what was left in the pot, and it was only when he had prepared his second cup that he spoke again.  
   
“Breakfast?”  
   
“Sure.”  
   
Tony prepared them a breakfast of bacon and eggs and toast, and more coffee of course, and when the plates were empty, looked at Gibbs with a cheeky sparkle in his eyes.  
   
“So, what are we going to do today now that we’re on holiday and all?”  
   
Gibbs snorted.  
   
“Not much to do. Gotta stay inside. Hope you brought enough movies.”  
   
It was the start of a very long day, Gibbs on the lounger reading his book, Tony on the couch watching his movies. But there is only so much reading or watching you can do before you start getting bored with it, especially when you’re forced into it by not having anything else to do, and by the time evening finally fell, both men were grouchy and irritated. Tony was almost glad that he could start preparing dinner, at least it was something else to do, and Gibbs took his time building another fire, as if he also was glad to have another task at hand. To Gibbs, dinner was another masterpiece, and he complimented Tony again, which made the younger man smile. When they were done and the dishes were cleared away, Tony thought about going back to his movies, but decided he’d seen enough for today. Glancing over at Gibbs, he saw him tending the fire as if the older man was reluctant to return to his book as well.  
   
“Wanna play a game, Boss? I brought chess.”  
   
At the raised eyebrow Gibbs threw at him, he continued with a smile.  
   
“And ludo.”  
   
Laughing, Gibbs got up and replied while he got them each a beer from the fridge.  
   
“Ludo it is then.”  
   
The game was equal parts amusing and annoying, and they managed to go three rounds without killing each other, before deciding to turn in.  
   
   
Day three started out much the same as day two, Tony waking up to coffee, sunshine and birdsong, Gibbs already at the dining table. This time when Tony stretched, he didn’t just feel a twinge in his back, it felt like his muscles had locked and he would barely be able to move. Getting up carefully, Tony stretched his back extensively, Gibbs eyeing him in assessment.  
   
“You okay?”  
   
“My back is killing me. Seriously, you have no problems with that mattress?”  
   
“I sleep on my lumpy couch at home, DiNozzo. I used to sleep under my boat. This is not that bad.”  
   
“Tell that to my back.”  
   
Tony grumbled a little more while he got his coffee and sat across from Gibbs at the tiny dinner table, but when he finished his first cup he was starting to better and got up to fix them breakfast. During the meal, he wondered what he was going to do today to keep himself from going insane with boredom, not looking forward to another full day spent watching movies. He’d brought a couple of books too, maybe he should follow Gibbs’ example. Because of security, bringing his laptop had been banned, and Tony missed it terribly. He cleared the dishes and washed them, glad that it was something to do, then settled on the couch with a book. After half an hour, the book failing to grab his attention, he exchanged it for a movie, but found it couldn’t hold his concentration either. Going back to the book, he gave that another try.  
   
Gibbs watched him over the rim of his glasses. Tony always hummed with energy, always needing to touch things, reach out, move. He knew this forced idleness was wreaking havoc on Tony’s piece of mind. Gibbs’ sniper training had given him the patience to watch and wait when he was forced to, but Tony did not have the benefit of such training. This might become a situation.  
   
And sure enough, after a couple of hours, Tony just couldn’t contain himself anymore. He started pacing the small available space of the floor, quiet at first, but then the talking began.  
   
“Why couldn’t we have brought some cold cases with us, Boss? Not that those are my favorite, but at least I’d feel like I’d be doing something. Have something to keep my mind occupied.”  
   
“Can’t bring case files to a safe house, DiNozzo, in case it’s compromised.”  
   
“Fine, fine. But now I have all these details running through my mind of this cold case I was reviewing a couple of weeks ago, and I know I hit on something there, but because I don’t have the file I can’t check whether the thing I think I hit on is actually the thing that’s in the file. And it’s driving me crazy! Do you remember the details, Boss? It was the file on the Jefferson murder from 2006, and…”  
   
And Tony kept talking. Gibbs was quiet as Tony rambled on about all the details he remembered about the case, but nothing was relevant, and Gibbs was getting annoyed. Finally, Gibbs issued his warning.  
   
“DiNozzo!”  
   
“Yes, Boss?”  
   
“Shut up.”  
   
Tony looked at Gibbs, and saw the annoyance there, knowing he’d been rambling and that Gibbs could only take so much.  
   
“Sorry, Boss.”  
   
He settled on the couch again and flipped pages in his book, not really reading, more scanning the words, trying to find something that would catch his interest, but finding nothing. Inevitably, he started talking again. And that was how it went for the remainder of the afternoon, a vicious cycle. Tony would start gabbing, until Gibbs finally snapped at him to be quiet, then he tried to find something to do but failed, and started talking again. Tension rose between them noticeably, and when at last dinner time arrived, Tony was relieved to be doing something else, and Gibbs was thankful for the silence. During dinner, they both focused on eating and the tension faded a little, but once the dishes were done and put away, it started up again. After he had snapped at Tony to be quiet twice more, Gibbs went outside and chose to chop some wood instead of killing his agent. He stayed out there until he finally heard the shower and then saw the lights turn off, and waited a little longer until he hoped Tony would be asleep, before going back inside and to bed as well.  
   
   
On day four, Tony woke up to the sound of rain clamoring down onto the roof and windows of the cabin, the feeling like his back was broken, and no smell of coffee. For a moment he was oddly thankful that there was no sunlight trying to blind him and that the annoying birds were finally quiet, then he felt the nervous energy of another day when he was forced to do nothing buzzing through his body, and the monotonous sound of the rain wasn’t helping. Stretching, he almost moaned in pain, barely managing to keep the sound inside, and very gently seated himself on the edge of the bed. Opening his eyes, he found Gibbs reading on the lounger, empty coffee cup on the table, looking at Tony warningly. Glancing over to the kitchenette, Tony saw the coffee pot was empty. It was the start of what was going to be a bad day.  
   
Tony gingerly made his way to the coffee pot, starting a fresh batch, then went to the bathroom to take a hot shower to try and loosen the muscles in his back. He stayed in there until the hot water ran out, and found it had only helped a little. Keeping his movements slow and steady, he dressed and went to the kitchen for coffee, only to find that Gibbs had already downed half of it and was helping himself to a third cup, leaving barely anything for Tony. Starting yet another batch, Tony ground his teeth to keep from telling the older man off for it.  
 Deciding that if Gibbs was going to steal his coffee, then he could make his own breakfast as well, Tony prepared a couple of sandwiches for himself and ate them at the dinner table. Gibbs, spotting the single plate and realizing Tony hadn’t made any for him, stalked over to the kitchen to get himself something to eat, preferring to take it back to the lounger instead of having to sit across from Tony. His sandwiches finished, Tony brought his plate to the kitchen and poured himself more coffee, taking it back to the table. Gibbs put his plate in the kitchen as well and got more coffee. When Tony was finished, he washed his own cup and plate, leaving Gibbs’ dishes. It all went downhill from there.  
   
Early evening found them standing nose to nose, faces heated with anger and frustration, shouting at the top of their lungs.  
   
“Will you shut up, DiNozzo! For God’s sake, be quiet for just a moment!”  
   
“Fuck you, Gibbs! Just because you’re a functional mute, doesn’t mean we all are! People talk, you know!”  
   
“You don’t talk! You ramble nonsense!”  
   
“I make conversation!”  
   
“You’re like an overgrown child with no self-control!”  
   
“You’re a stubborn bastard with no sense of fun!”  
   
“All you do is complain and moan!”  
   
“Like what you do is any better?! You share nothing!”  
   
“You share too much! Can’t you ever keep anything to yourself?!”  
   
“Can’t you ever let anyone know what’s going on with you?!”  
   
“You sound like my fucking ex-wives!”  
   
“No wonder you can’t get anyone to stay with you!”  
   
“I’m warning you, DiNozzo! Don’t go there if you want to survive another day!”  
   
“You think you can kill me?! I’d like to see you try, old man!”  
   
“Juvenile frat boy!”  
   
“Fuck you, Gibbs!”  
   
“Fuck you, DiNozzo!”  
   
In an effort to control himself at least a little, Gibbs turned, intending to go outside, but stopped when he saw the rain against the window. It was coming down in sheets, and not even Gibbs was willing to spend a few hours in that just to get away from Tony. Glaring at the rain, Gibbs crossed his arms over his chest and fumed in silence. Tony scowled at Gibbs’ back, seething in equal silence. Long minutes later, having calmed a little, Tony turned around.  
   
“I’m going to make dinner.”  
   
Gibbs didn’t respond.  
   
Tony thought for a moment about only making something for himself, but decided that really would be childish. When half an hour later Tony put two full plates on the table, Gibbs glanced at him a moment before sitting down. They ate in silence. When they were done eating, Gibbs gave Tony a nod in thanks. Tony took both plates to the kitchen and washed them, and Gibbs broke out the bourbon and poured a glass for each of them, handing one to Tony, who accepted with a nod. The rest of the evening was spent in icy silence, both men drinking and staring at the wall. Day four, and they still hadn’t heard anything from Vance.  
   
   
The following days had a similar pattern. Long, icy silences were interspersed with heated shouting matches. The rain continued fiercely, keeping them both inside, no escape from each other.  
   
Day eight, they reached the low point. They were running out of food, Gibbs had no books left to read, and Tony had gone through all the movies he’d brought. An attempt at distraction by playing a game of chess ended in the board and pieces flying through the room and another bout of shouting at each other. Tony’s back was getting steadily worse, and they were running out of fresh clothes and sheets. Though Tony still made breakfast and dinner for both of them, and Gibbs poured them both bourbon or handed Tony a beer, those were the only civil gestures they had left for each other. Tony was starting to think of a transfer if they ever got out of here, and Gibbs thought of retirement. That night, they were on the verge of killing each other, when finally the burn phone rang.  
   
Vance’s update was short and not what they wanted to hear. While Vance insisted that they were making progress, working together with Fornell and his team, the end was not yet in sight. They – quite literally – weren’t out of the woods yet. They went to bed immediately after the call, in stony silence.  
   
   
On day nine, Tony woke up alone. A watery sun was trying to shine into his eyes, and a few birds braving the dripping branches were trying to rouse him with their chattering song. The smell of coffee permeated the small cabin. Tony groaned in pain, even opening his eyes made his back hurt. He took long, careful minutes to get himself upright and shuffle over to the kitchen and the brewing coffee. There he found a note from Gibbs, saying that they needed supplies and he had gone out in search of them. Tony knew Gibbs would be gone for a couple of hours at least, taking every measure to avoid discovery, and probably going further out of the way than was really necessary in a bid to extend the time they were spending apart. Grateful for the few hours of separation after having spent eight days on each other’s back, Tony shuffled over to the shower, his coffee in hand, in another desperate attempt to soothe his aching back. It hadn’t helped before, but it was all he had.  
   
Tony had managed to shower and have some breakfast, but a few hours later, he was almost crying with pain. Nothing helped, and it seemed to only get worse. He felt best – horrible, but still, it was the best of his options – lying flat on his back on the hard floor of the cabin. He focused on his breathing, trying to ignore the pain, almost praying that he could fall asleep and just be unconscious for a while, but sleep wouldn’t come. He was almost grateful when he finally heard someone approach the cabin, not caring whether it would be Gibbs or the bad guys, at least arguing with Gibbs or getting killed by the bad guys would distract him from the pain.  
   
Gibbs called out softly to let Tony know that it was him, not wanting to get shot if he entered unannounced. He got no reply and was worried. When he opened the door carefully and found Tony lying on the ground, for a moment his heart stopped and he frantically scanned Tony’s body for blood or wounds, sighing in relief when he saw the chest rise and fall in breathing.  
   
“Tony? You okay?”  
   
“Hey, Boss.”  
   
“What happened?”  
   
“I’m praying for death.”  
   
“You pray on your knees, not on your back.”  
   
“Please, Boss, just kill me now and let this pain in my back be over.”  
   
Hearing the strain of the pain in Tony’s voice, Gibbs took mercy on the younger man.  
   
“Just hang on a little longer, Tony. I got something that might help.”  
   
Quickly bringing in the supplies he’d bought about a hundred towns over in a small family store that had no security cameras and gladly accepted cash, Gibbs stashed everything away. From his position on the floor, Tony saw food and drink being stored in the fridge and cupboards, and then to his surprise, Gibbs started unpacking other items. New books, a few DVDs, even a couple of packs of cards, laundry detergent, and then the familiar shape of little bottles of non-prescription painkillers. Having found the painkillers at the bottom of the bag, Gibbs immediately shook out three and handed them to Tony with a bottle of water. Tony nearly wept in gratitude. Leaving the younger man on floor for a few more minutes to give the painkillers time to kick in, Gibbs removed the last two items from the bag, then went to the bathroom and got two towels, which he laid out on the bed. Pouring them each a shot of bourbon, knowing that Tony really shouldn’t mix the pills with the booze, but hoping it would help him relax, he sat down on the floor next to the younger man and handed him the glass. It was difficult to drink lying down, but Tony managed. When a few minutes later, Tony let out a sigh and his body seemed to unclench a little, Gibbs knew it was time.  
   
Getting up and putting their now empty glasses away, Gibbs walked back to Tony and helped him up off the floor, taking him over to the bed. When Tony balked at being led to the object that was the root of his pain, Gibbs assured him that it would be alright. Helping Tony out of his sweatshirt, Gibbs got him to lay down on the towels on his stomach, his back and shoulders bare. Grabbing the tube of muscle balm he’d found in the little store, Gibbs gently sat down on the back of Tony’s thighs, straddling him, then opened the tube and applied the balm liberally, starting a massage that had the younger man groaning in pain for long minutes, then sighing in relief when the balm heated his aching muscles, and Gibbs’ strong fingers kneaded out the knots. Gibbs took his time and continued the massage for nearly an hour, switching to oil instead of balm when he started on Tony’s shoulders and neck, rubbing the tension that had settled there away as well. Finishing at last, Gibbs got up and rubbed Tony’s back clean with a towel, then got the last item he’d purchased and put it in place. Feeling the heating pad on his back, already warm and heating up further, Tony basically purred in contentment. Turning his head so he could look at Gibbs, seeing him come over again with another glass of bourbon and having it handed to him, Tony breathed out deeply.  
   
“Feeling better, Tony?”  
   
“Much. Thank you, Jethro.”  
   
The thanks sounded grateful and heartfelt, and Gibbs quirked a little smile at him, then stroked his fingers through Tony’s hair once.  
   
“You’re welcome. Rest a little. I’ll go chop some more wood for tonight.”  
   
And Tony downed the bourbon and dozed for over an hour, the background sound of the ax splitting chunks of wood outside not annoying this time, not a reminder of an argument shouted at each other, but the comforting sound of the presence of someone who cared for him.  
   
   
When Gibbs came back in, Tony felt almost human again. Not that all the pain was gone, but he could at least move around without much trouble, and he was surprised when Gibbs offered to show him some exercises which might help with his back, having learned them from a marine buddy. They almost had fun doing the exercises, and Tony was grateful when he felt his muscles relax even further after they had done them and stretched. The horrid atmosphere that had hung in the cabin the last few days dissipated, and they managed to spend the rest of the afternoon in a companionable mood, Tony watching one of the new DVDs Gibbs had brought, the older man settling in with a new book, and Gibbs actually answering the few times Tony made a remark. When Tony went to the kitchen to fix dinner, pleased when he saw what supplies Gibbs had brought and thinking of all the things he could make with them, Gibbs lit the fire and settled back on the lounger, putting down his book and simply watching Tony do his thing in the kitchen, smiling when he saw a happy little grin appear on Tony’s face now and then at an unvoiced thought.

Dinner was delicious again and they actually managed to have some normal conversation while they ate. Afterwards, they played a couple of round of various card games and drank bourbon. It was actually a pleasant evening, and they went to bed in a much better mood. But an hour or two later, Gibbs woke up to find Tony tossing and turning, and groaning softly.

"Your back again?"

"Sorry, Boss. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Couch?"

"Tried it yesterday. It's just as bad."

"Wouldn't it help if you slept on your side?"

"That feels better, but I always roll over onto my back in my sleep. That's why I woke up."

"And if we prop the pillows up against your back to keep you on your side?"

"There's only two and there's not much to them. I'd just roll over them."

Tony sighed in frustration and Gibbs took an executive decision. He scooted over to Tony, rolled him onto his side facing away from Gibbs, and pressed up against him, slinging his arm over Tony's side to rest on his stomach. Tony froze.

"What are you doing, Gibbs?"

"I sleep on my side. And you won't be able to roll over me."

Tense for a few more minutes, Tony at last felt the warmth of Gibbs' belly against the small of his back, gave an experimental push back against Gibbs to see if he would roll over, earning a snort from Gibbs. Then he felt a little better.

"Thanks, Boss."

"Sleep, Tony."

 

Day ten, and Tony almost yelped when he woke up with a start and moved the wrong muscles, his back telling him that even though it was better than the day before, it certainly was not pleased. Before his eyes were fully open, Gibbs was standing beside him, coffee and pain meds in hand. Taking them, Tony sighed deeply in annoyance at his body telling him he was getting older. He waited patiently for the pills to kick in, then went to take a hot shower. It helped some, but not as much as the massage and exercises had helped the day before, but he wasn't up to doing the exercises now and he didn't dare ask Gibbs for another massage. Moving carefully, he got more coffee and started breakfast.

Gibbs saw that Tony was still in pain, but realized that the younger man would never ask him for another massage, so after breakfast he simply offered. At the grateful look Tony couldn't fully hide, Gibbs gave him a head slap.

"For someone who talks that much, you sure keep quiet when it comes to important things."

Settling on the bed in the same position as the day before, Tony on his stomach and Gibbs straddling his thighs, Gibbs started the massage and Tony began to relax instantly. It hurt, but he knew it would start to feel better soon, and when it did, he felt himself almost melt into the offensive mattress. Then he felt his dick begin to stir. Dear lord, he was getting hard in front of Gibbs! No, because of Gibbs, because of what the older man was doing to him. He felt a deep blush creep up his face and was grateful his boss couldn't see it from his position, and tried to will his erection away with every off-putting picture he could think of. But it didn't work, and he stayed painfully hard for the remainder of the massage. Thankfully, Gibbs put the heating pad on him again and told him to lay there a little longer. By the time he got up, he had finally softened.

Tony fled to the bathroom, going for another shower, but stared at himself in the mirror for a few moments, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Stepping into the shower, he leaned his hands against the wall and hung his head under the spray, his mind racing with thoughts. At last telling himself that it had just been the pleasure of touch, that physical closeness to another human being that had caused his reaction. Told himself it could have been anyone.

But for the rest of the day, he studied Gibbs from the corners of his eyes every chance he got without the older man noticing, and the idea that it would have happened had Gibbs been someone else, slowly melted away. Gibbs was attractive, and he loved him as a friend, admired him for the man he was, and he just couldn't picture himself getting hard for any other man. He was confused, but tried to maintain the companionable atmosphere they'd had the day before, not entirely succeeding.

Gibbs felt something had shifted between them, but he couldn't figure out what it was. They didn't revert back to the horror of a couple of days ago, but it wasn't the same as yesterday either. There was a tenseness in the air, and he didn't know where it came from. They made it through the day fine despite the strange tension, and went to bed early, Gibbs spooning up against Tony's back again in an effort to spare him at least some pain in his back, fully intending to help him with a massage again the next day if it should prove necessary. He felt Tony tense up when he moved close, but ignored it, stroked his hand over Tony's chest once in an attempt to comfort him, then gruffly repeated his order from the previous night.

"Sleep, Tony."

Hearing and feeling Gibbs relax against him in sleep, Tony laid awake, wide eyed and worried. Sleep? How the hell could he sleep with Gibbs pressed up against him like this? What if he got hard again? Oh no, don't go there! Don't think about it! If you think about it, it will undoubtedly happen! Don't! Stifling a groan when he felt it was already too late, he held himself still so he wouldn't wake Gibbs up, and when he finally softened again, he at last fell into an exhausted and confused sleep.

 

Day eleven started without sunshine, birdsong or the smell of coffee, because it was still almost completely dark when Tony woke up. What was there instead of those things, was the warm body of his boss pressed up against him still, the heavy arm of Gibbs tight around his chest, holding him close, and Gibbs' impressive erection pushing against his ass. Tony felt himself grow hard instantly, and sighed a silent curse to himself. Then he tried to catalogue how he felt.

He felt good. Gibbs felt good against him, and he liked the strong arm that held him. Breathing deeply, he liked the way the older man smelled. And he liked the feeling of that hard length against his ass. Wiggling a little as an experiment, he giggled to himself when his own dick enthusiastically jumped a little. Very carefully turning around without waking Gibbs, Tony studied the man's sleeping features in the sparse light. And then he felt the urge to kiss those lips so close to his, so he did. It was a gentle brush of lips against lips, but Gibbs' eyes flew open immediately. Tony pulled back minutely, and stared into those blue eyes, trying to read them.

Gibbs quickly assessed the situation. He was hard. Damn it, he thought he had suppressed and buried his attraction to Tony years ago! But apparently being this close to Tony brought it out again. He was pressed up against Tony, but no longer to Tony's back, no, the younger man had turned around and was staring searchingly into his eyes. Gibbs had woken up when something had touched his lips, and from their position, he surmised what had touched his lips were Tony's own. And Tony was hard too, he could feel their erections against each other. Answering the green eyed gaze head on, Gibbs closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Tony's.

Those first kisses were tentative and open eyed, carefully reading each other's reactions, but that changed when Gibbs felt Tony's hand between them, cupping Gibbs' dick. With a delighted groan, he shut his eyes and pulled Tony even closer to him, claiming his mouth and tasting his tongue, letting them play together. And when he felt Tony push down both their shorts and free their erections to pull them together, he was in heaven. Bringing down a hand of his own to encircle them both together with Tony's hand and guiding the movements, Gibbs continued to devour Tony's mouth until, embarrassingly short minutes later, he felt his orgasm rush through him, but pleased to see Tony lose it at the same time, head thrown back and panting loudly.

As they calmed down a little, Gibbs worried about the aftermath, but he shouldn't have. As soon as he got his breath back, Tony kissed him again and asked his question with a cheeky little grin.

"When can we do that again?"

Letting out his breath in relief, Gibbs answered.

"Anytime you want, Tony."

Day eleven proved that "anytime Tony wanted", was often, and he wanted everything. When Gibbs learned that this was new to Tony, he resolved to take it slow, but Tony's eagerness and the little pout and puppy dog eyes he gave whenever Gibbs tried to slow things down melted the older man's resolve every time.

Days twelve through fifteen flew by far too quickly. Thankfully it turned out that Tony's back could stand the crappy mattress well enough if he got this kind of exercise, and if Gibbs held him close while they slept. Their bodies held no secrets from each other any more by the time the afternoon of day fifteen arrived. Then the jubilant call came.

 

Finally released from their enforced exile in the middle of nowhere, the car was filled with tension on the drive back to the city. They hadn't talked about what this meant, where they wanted it to go, what they felt, and Gibbs was worried that it would be over now that they were back, and that it may even ruin the relationship they'd had before. Reaching the crossroads where they would have to take a left to go to Tony's place and right for Gibbs' house, Gibbs stopped and looked over at his lover of the past few days. Studying him a moment, he saw a questioning look in Tony's eyes as the younger man looked back.

"I don't do casual, Tony…"

"Good."

Tony interrupted him, then pointed to the right to Gibbs' house and pressed kiss to his lover's lips, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Take us home, Jethro."


End file.
